


Dawn

by marcosburlybiceps



Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Angst, Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 22:05:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17333210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcosburlybiceps/pseuds/marcosburlybiceps
Summary: Post-Red Queen Maven Calore Drabble.Maven stares down at his crown...





	Dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chibioniyuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibioniyuri/gifts).



Maven stares down at his crown--it is dawn and he is alone in his new expansive room; he is allowed a reprieve from servants at his heels after killing his king; he sleeps alone, clutching at blankets rather than a queen; the one who does rule will hear of any change in his routine so he must shake out of this--before putting it on.

Maven stares down at his crown--the meaningless metal that rests on his brow; the true ruler of their land lives in the shadows; he doesn’t mind; he agreed to the terms years before his ascension; now and then the counsel brings to him laws and bills that remind him of the flashing brown eyes of a very brave girl; he has to bite his tongue from giving her what she may have wanted; only one woman got him where he is now and she deserves the respect of his silence--before putting it on.

Maven stares down at his crown--the spires as cutting as his mother’s words; she expects perfection and he cannot reach it; she decided who he became the second he became; she controls his every thought, look, second of his days, and yet he is never enough; she despised his brother, but, still, his shadow looms over it all--before putting it on.

Maven stares down at his crown--reds are born from mud and dirt and ash; they fight for their country and come home wounded to breed and die; when every meal is uncertain, how can one not be grateful for each bite? Cal will find happiness with them; ‘mavey,’ a voice whispers, ‘mavey.’--before putting it on.

Maven stares down at his crown. The metal is cold within his steady hands. When he settles it on, he notes again that it is a little big on him. Room to grow old in. He straightens his shirt, sneers, and leaves.


End file.
